


A Domestic Affair

by VesperNexus



Series: The Affair [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperNexus/pseuds/VesperNexus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal cooks Will breakfast. It’s a domestic affair. Really.</p><p>Or,</p><p>Will trembled wonderfully beneath his hold, eyes darkening deliciously with a want that reflected Hannibal’s own. There was only a short, unaccountable moment before Hannibal was drawing his lover impossibly close and capturing his lips hungrily in his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Domestic Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, Folks! So I recently watched season two, and MY GOD.  
> I had some feels that demanded to be felt, and a plot bunny that would not leave me alone.  
> I present to ye, a totally AU, remarkable fluffy and ridiculously domestic oneshot.

**A Domestic Affair**

The meat sizzled with fervour inside the slick metal of the pan, specks of light golden oil fizzing about energetically. The soft red had become a deep bronze and crisped at the edges, heat licking at every corner of the sausages. Eggs gently fried in a miniature pan just by the side, hissing quietly over the soft orange-yellow flame in a lightly flavoured marinade of salt, pepper and lime.

Hannibal drew in a deep breath and smelled the delicious fragrance of his food, senses filling with the rare, pleasant calm which crawled through his veins and came with the joy of cooking simply. He let a soft smile grace his features as he considered the ease of creating such an ordinary American meal lacking all complexity, all delicacy. As the sausage darkened deliciously, Hannibal thought about the appeal in such simplicity, an implication he could relate to his own situation.

As he commenced onto slicing fresh oranges by half, the echoing of sound footsteps reached his ears before the short, quiet yawn behind him did. He paused for a moment, the only indication that he’d realised Will had entered the kitchen, and resisted the urge to curve his lips in a smile.

“You’re awake.” He spoke, voice deliberately softened and unintentionally filled with an emotion he had yet to fully familiarise himself with. He carefully placed the sharp knife down on the chopping board by the oranges before slowly turning around completely.

Will stood before him, dark, soft locks swept backwards messily yet still managing to fall forth and frame his gentle, pale features. Bright hazel eyes gazed at Hannibal through a prison of long lashes, delicate and almost black against the fair skin. A small, soft smile graced his peaceful attributes, taking away from the fading shadows beneath his eyes. The golden rays penetrating through the window behind him dyed his skin in an almost soft, ethereal glow.

Hannibal felt something flutter behind his ribs, and watched Will with his own quickly- familiar smile.

Will tilted his head from a few metres away, eyes crinkling by the corners. “So are you, it seems.” His voice was quiet and thickened with sleep, but seemed to fill up the entire room nonetheless.

Hannibal raised an accurately arched eyebrow in response as Will began to make his way towards him with painstakingly slow steps, taking in the feet dressed in socks patterned with multi-coloured dogs, sleep-pants falling low narrow hips, hidden almost beneath the dress shirt-

Hannibal’s dress shirt.

White, wrinkled at the corners, sleeves reaching far past his thin wrists and hem falling almost mid-thigh. The shoulders were a size too large, but somehow the shirt managed to emphasise the slender waist evocatively. Hannibal tried with desperate futility to avoid staring at the unbuttoned top section, shirt parted tantalisingly to show the slightest sliver of pale flesh hidden beneath.

He’d barely noticed when Will was just in front of him.

The younger man leant in with a slight lift of his chin, his gaze pulling Hannibal’s eyes from his chest,

“Sorry,” he spoke, voice huskier than it had been a moment ago, “I couldn’t find mine.” His smile widened as he referred to the shirt.

Hannibal felt something different stir in the pit of his stomach, a different sort of hunger. He bent his head slightly and moved his hands up towards Will until both palms rested comfortably on his narrow, inviting hips. He drew him in lazily as he replied,

“I suppose,” he said in a tone mockingly grave, “that will have to be _rectified._ ” His fingers slid upwards and wandered along his shirt only to spread fittingly on either side of Will’s slender waist. He pulled the investigator a little closer, until they were almost flush against one another, deliciously sharing a rising heat between them.

“Oh?” Will replied with feigned innocence, lips mere centimetres from Hannibal’s own. “And how will you do that,” he paused, tone becoming heavier and all too reminiscent of how he’d spoken to Hannibal last night, “ _Doctor Lector_?”

When Will met his eyes for the second time, Hannibal found that he was only able to hold on so long.

“Perhaps,” he gifted the younger man with his own tantalising smile, “ _I’ll just tear it off.”_

Will trembled wonderfully beneath his hold, eyes darkening deliciously with a want that reflected Hannibal’s own. There was only a short, unaccountable moment before Hannibal was drawing his lover impossibly close and capturing his lips hungrily in his own.

As soon as Hannibal tasted the sting of yesterday’s scotch on Will’s lips, masked by a beautiful bitter-sweetness so uniquely his own, the outside world ceased to exist. If only for those few seconds, the smell of sausage and egg gently frying behind them was left unnoticed, the rays of the sun painting their skins like fresh canvasses overlooked, the previous hunger for something other than food intensified.

It began quick and intense; passionate like so many they’d shared before. Will’s tongue ran over his teeth and Hannibal explored him with as much fervour as he had the first time they’d kissed, the first time he’d hungered for something so entirely different.

“Hannibal…” Will whispered softly as they pulled apart gently, drawing deep, quiet breathes in order to regain their composure. Hannibal resisted the urge to draw him into another wonderful kiss as the younger man spoke gently against his lips. “The food’s going to burn…”

Will chuckled softly as Hannibal’s eyes widened unnoticeably to anyone else who’d not paid so much attention. It was a light, fulfilling, _beautiful_ sound he’d sworn he’d cherish and aim to draw from the previously withdrawn and subdued unique man before him.

Hannibal didn’t think he’d ever be able to feel it. The way his blood had pumped so quickly through his veins, the almost imperceptibly increased beat of his heart, the undeniable rush which filled his chest with an emotion as warm as Will’s eyes.

He let a curious grin grace his lips when Will dropped his head to rest in the curve of the psychologist’s neck, soft locks curling lightly along his skin. Hannibal shifted and pressed a quiet kiss into Will’s hair,

“Breakfast, then?” He spoke, voice muffled slightly.

Will’s tone was just as quieted, buried into the warmth of Hannibal’s neck and shoulder.

“Breakfast.” He replied almost sleepily, before shifting slightly. Hannibal felt the soft flutter of his long eyelashes tickling his skin as he continued, “And then…” He moved a little again, pressing himself further so that he and Hannibal were flush against one another. “And then, I’d like to satisfy a _different kind of hunger…_ ”

And Hannibal laughed a soft, quiet melody which blanketed the room with warmth. “You’re insatiable, Will Graham.”

Will let out a breath of a laugh against his skin, and Hannibal decided he’d best remove the food from the fire before it burned.

And then, they could both satisfy _that_ hunger.


End file.
